| Aw, shit
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| This somethin', y’all lit
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| You niggas called it
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| To yourself, saw the line and you crossed it
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| I ain’t gotta send it to you trippin' all it take is
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| Negative lippin', you automatically start the mission
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| Clique is stricken, 'cause you hissin'
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| Leave your shit in a bad condition
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| So many N9cians, I can’t list 'em
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| When the funk comin' up, they sniffin' (Chuh)
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| My niggas is hibernatin' (Chuh)
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| It’s all love, but believe we got the sniper waitin' (Chuh)
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| And they ain’t rappin', no talkin' and never cyber-hatin' (Chuh)
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| They specialize in that thing you can get from Mike or Jason
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| I ain’t gotta say a damn thing
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| Once you say it, next thing you know the clan came
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| You run your mouth and make 'em come expand brains
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| Damn shame, and lame
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| Got to drop and pop your top like when they poppin' champagne
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| Ugh, and I got plenty means
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| To get it done, but I ain’t gotta drop any green
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| The many kings that love me will give 'em semi-streams
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| If he say anything (Anything?)
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| Anything (Anything, chuh)
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| So close they hold these spitters
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| So many that I might not even know these hitters
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| Havin' love from me, so if you try to slow these gritters
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| When it pop, don’t look at me, I can’t control these niggas (Uh-uh)
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| T-T-G, yeah we trained to go
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| Real niggas in they biz, so don’t get exposed
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| Police come around, they go, «We don’t know»
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| Get ya hit, get ya split, but we do the most
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| Green lit a pussy, bumbaclot
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| And my niggas always down to spill the blood
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| What that mean? |
| Double back, hit his top
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| Young custodian and might pull up with the mop
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| A lot of wolfin' goin' on from these new names lately
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| Don’t ever have a career, huh, on 2K maybe
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| Your car will get dented like Harvey, if you’re two-faced, crazy
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| My youngins’ll mop you up for a blue face, baby, ugh
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| I don’t wanna get you green lit like I need him pressed
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| That line like it’s call waiting, but it’s those texts you’ll be receiving
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| No one gon' start shit but I play defense
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| Look at my shark fins, you’re in the deep end
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| When I left, I kept on calling Chilli like T-Boz, I be creepin', nigga
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| Bitch please, don’t get your whips swiss-cheesed
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| Melted for the chips like trick, give me some dip please
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| Don’t get tricked off like Roy and Siegfried
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| When the Sig squeeze, I’ll make Ms on 16s
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| Strange Gang, I’ll bang-bang like it’s Chief Keef
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| Sprinkle wax blunt, call us sequoias, big trees
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| I ain’t ridin' 'round naked like a striptease
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| I’ll do a drive-by on a 10-speed for 10 Gs (Shroom)
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| I be gassin' on 'em with intense speed, what the lick read?
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| They don’t wanna see me ballin'
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| They know I’m the king, like Lebron I switch teams
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| How ironic that I got the iron in my pants and my pockets increase
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| Shittin' on them niggas hella bad
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| Take the L, I’ve been on a win streak
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| I’m on your head, yeah, I’m so proactive
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| And I don’t wanna push your team back, so no more malice
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| Trav said, «Take the high road,» so I won’t go at it
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| But if you hatin', do me a favor
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| Do Momo challenge, chump
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| They know it’s
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| T-T-G, yeah we trained to go
|
| Real niggas in they biz, so don’t get exposed
|
| Police come around, they go, «We don’t know»
|
| Get ya hit, get ya split, but we do the most
|
| Green lit a pussy, bumbaclot
|
| And my niggas always down to spin the block
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| What that mean? |
| Double back, hit his top
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| Young custodian and might pull up with the mop
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| You worry 'bout bitches, I’m handlin' business
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| My niggas be with it, we comin' to get it
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| You know how we be pullin' up, ought to be cool with us
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| But they not cool enough, but they not bool enough
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| Ain’t tryna disrespect nobody, but my goons’ll catch a body
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| Shoot 'em just like paparazzi, now you stumblin' and flockin'
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| 50 bands for a show what I want, like I’m Waka Flocka
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| Pull up and go baka-baka
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| OGs, they gon' pop ya, pop ya
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| Niggas talkin', we gon' let 'em have it, yeah
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| Listen, peon, shit could get tragic, yuh
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| T-T-G, yeah we trained to go
|
| Real niggas in they biz, so don’t get exposed
|
| Police come around, they go, «We don’t know»
|
| Get ya hit, get ya split, but we do the most
|
| Green lit a pussy, bumbaclot
|
| And my niggas always down to spin the block
|
| What that mean? |
| Double back, hit his top
|
| Young custodian and might pull up with the mop
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| Strange Music 20 year annivers- |